Too Tired to Cry, Too Emotional to Sleep (A Syndisparklez fan fiction)
by The Sword is my Pen
Summary: Jordan has gone missing, and Tom is freaking out. Is he just off adventuring or has something much worse occured?


Tom had not seen or heard from Jordan in weeks. The older gamer had been nowhere to be found. The first few days Tom thought nothing of it. Each of the hero's had projects and Tom just figured Jordan was working on his reactor again or something.

After a week and a half, Tom started worrying. Never had Sparkly-dick been out of touch with all of them this long. If he was just working he surly would have checked in by now. So the Dianitee decided to do some snooping. The Fortress of Fury turned up no clues, only a mildly worried Guard Tom. He wasn't hiding out in Tucker, Sonja, or James's houses either (though Tom had highly doubted he would be there). He even investigated the town before flying over the taint towards Jordan's massive reactor.

When he first did not see Jordan near the reactor, Tom flew over to the nearby witches hut. However, that did not seem to have been touched in a long while– a layer of dust had settled over everything. He returned to the reactor, puzzled and scratching his head. A faint hum could be heard over the sound of pigs trapped in the nearby pen. Tom realized the giant thing was on. A quick look showed that it had long run out of yellorium to power it and had almost drained it's reserves. He must of forgotten to turn it off again, Tom thought to himself after switching it off. Jordan had left one of his portals on as well. If he's hiding in his dumb specter dimension then he'll be able to come back out and turn all this back on. The man waited for a few minutes to see if the Ianitee would show up but it soon became evident he wouldn't. Tom released a concerned sigh and flapped his way back towards town and his base.

Halfway home, the Dianitee dropped down and approached Martha's house. Maybe she knew something. Tom knocked on the door before entering. "Martha? You home?" he called out.

"One sec," a voice floated down from upstairs. Soon Tom heard the pattering of feet coming down the stairs and Martha the Mystic appeared before him. "How's it going?" Steve's fiancee smiled sweetly at him.

"Have you seen Jordan lately? I have't heard from him in nearly two weeks…" He trailed off nervously, eyes hopeful.

The smile slowly left her face. "No… I haven't seen him. That's odd." A thoughtful look came into her eyes. "This isn't like him."

"Well is Ianite around? Maybe she sent him to do something."

"No, my mother is not here today. But I'll tell you when she returns."

Ianite did not return for three more days. By that time Tom was in full panic mode. He would spend half the day sprinting around trying to find the older man, and the other half would be spent exhausted from his efforts. He checked the town and surrounding areas too many times to count. He spent a full day in the Twilight Forest in the hopes to find him. He flew through The End searching. He checked Ianite's old dwelling in hoped of finding either the goddess or her champion. The home- still a mess from him accidentally destroying it- lay empty and devoid of life. Tom collapsed, holding back frustrated tears. He couldn't stop thinking this was his fault. Jordan was gone because of him. The man had been angry at him before his disappearance.

Jordan had been helping Tom make something- he couldn't remember what exactly. But he could remember the conversation that ensued.

"I really should make one of these myself," Jordan had said thoughtfully examining whatever that thing had been.

"Copycat Jordan! Copycat Jordan!" Tom had shouted, laughing, half kidding half not. "You've got to do everything everyone else does!" What Tom didn't notice was Jordan's face turning bright red and the thinly veiled anger it held.

"You know what?" Ianite's champion calmly asked the other. "Fine." He threw the thing on the ground. "Fine. I won't help you anymore. I won't fix your crap when you break it. I won't help you when you ask. I'm done!" Jordan's voice was growing louder and angrier. Tom at this point was frozen in shock. "Who first started using the Specter Dimensions? Me. Who was the first to use ME Systems? Me! Who discovered and is using the goddamn portals. ME! Yet I'm a copy cat?! Well then fine, I'll go do it all by MYSELF so I cant COPY YOU!" He turned around quickly, unfurling his dragon wings and rising into the air. "You stay away from me! You and Tucker both!"

That was the last time Tom had seen him. What if Jordan had left for good? It would be his fault. He regretted his words, even if it had been a joke. He knew he sometimes took things too far. As much as he liked to deny it, Tom knew he had feelings for Ianite's champion no matter how much he buried it under mischief. But none the less, his little crush was there to stay.

The others would pitch into the search as well, but were not nearly worried as Tom. They all figured he had gone out adventuring and would return when he felt like it. But Tom knew, in his heart, that couldn't be it.

When Ianite returned to Dagrun she was quickly informed by her daughter Tom had been asking for her. Puzzled by this (as the man had never shown any real kindness to her in the past), she quickly teleported herself to him. At first he didn't notice her as he rummaged through his ME system. "You asked for me?" He jumped, turning and drawing his sword. "No need for weapons, Syn. It is just me."

Tom clutched his chest as he found his breath once again. "Jesus woman!" He had been on edge lately from lack of sleep and constant worry over Jordan's whereabouts.

"Well are we just going to stand here or are you going to tell me why you wanted me? I want to go say hello to my Spark Plug. I didn't notice him when I first arrived."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Did you send him on some kind of mission or something?"

A confused look passed onto the goddess's face. That was all the answer Tom needed. The lump that had residing in his gut grew from apple sized to a watermelon. "He has been missing for two weeks. No one knows where he is."

Ianite's face immediately grew dark. She closed her eyes for a minute and remained quiet. When he eyes reopened, there was panic there. "I cannot find him. Did you ask Dianite to search?"

"Of course I did! He couldn't find anything either!"

Ianite watched as the man began to hyperventilate and babble. "Syn." He didn't look at her. She called his name again to no avail. Then she did the only thing she could think to do. Slap him. He immediately stopped.

"We have to find him. We cannot lose ourselves. Gather the others and meet up at the Purge Hall. There is work to be done."

Jordan woke in pain. Nothing new at this point, but he knew this was different. He had been released- dumped more like it- from the hell he had been enduring for weeks.

He had been working on his reactor when someone struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out. When he woke up, he found himself chained to a hard, stone surface. Struggling proved futile. Hours passed before he heard a door opening and closing.

"Welcome, Spark," a deep, and familiar voice sounded. There was only one being in any realm that that voice could belong to.

"Mianite."

The sinister god stood before Jordan with a smirk. He was an imposing figure to say the least, but Jordan knew what evil lied behind that face.

"Hate to break it to you, bud, but I'm not Spark. So whatever you think you're going to get out of me ain't gonna happen."

The god only chuckled. "Yes, I am aware you are not the original Spark, the one my foolish sister married. My observation bots told me that. Perhaps you remember them?"

Oh, he remembered alright. Jordan had been followed around for days by a floating pair of goggles and no one had believed him that they were there. It would have driven him insane if James had not seen them too.

"You may not be Spark, but you are more useful to me than you think you are. You're going to tell me what I want," Mianite's devilish grin grew wider. "Or you will suffer the consequences."

"You lay even a finger on me, and there will be hell to pay. My friends will realize I am missing. Ianite and Dianite will track me down and you will be in a world of pain," he spat back at the god. He was getting tired of his cocky smirks and arrogant statements. Mianite may have an arsenal behind him, but Jordan had two gods, wizards, a bloodmage, and freaking Farmer Steve and Martha. They would prevail.

Mianite's smirk remained. "We will see if your… friends come." And with that, he left.

Mianite wanted to know anything and everything about the heroes. Their old worlds, the other gods, strengths, weaknesses- everything. Each time a question was asked, Jordan refused. And each time Jordan refused, he was hurt. At first it was only punches and kicks. He could take that, no problem. But with time, Mianite and his lackeys started getting creative. They began cutting and prodding and burning. They broke fingers and ripped off nails. They would beat him senseless, feed him a weak regeneration potion so he would heal (though never enough) and then start all over again.

Jordan never broke. He never gave up information about his friends or his god. The only sounds he uttered were screams of pain and insults towards the god. This frustrated Mianite to no end. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, and he wanted this more badly than most things. Jordan knew the god had a breaking point, and he would reach it eventually. Then he would either be killed or let go. Either was preferable at this point to what he was going through. He would prefer the oblivion of death to giving up.

That fateful day came at long last. The frustration of the god was almost palpable. One of his guards was slamming his fist into Jordan's face again and again, when the god reached his limit. "ENOUGH!" he shouted, wrenching his prisoner from the guards hand. He held Jordan up to his face by his throat. "TELL ME WHAT I WANT TO KNOW," the god roared.

"Never," Jordan croaked, then spat in Mianite's face.

This enraged the god even further, and he hurled Jordan's body across the room. The stone actually cracked as he slammed into it and he felt his wrist snap when he tried to damped the fall. The Ianitee curled into himself and moaned in pain. Ribs had definitely cracked and he tasted blood. When will it be over?

Suddenly, he was hoisted to his feet by two lackeys. "You have gotten your wish, Sparklez. You are of no use to me, therefore I am letting you go. But in your condition I doubt you will get far. No, my bet is that the mobs will take you. That is if you don't bleed out first."

And that's what led to his current predicament. In a hole, in a cave, desperately trying to stay alive. The people who had left him had gifted him with all his items, and a gaping stab wound in his left side. He knew if he took pressure off for too long he would surely bleed out. But he needed to contact his friends. He would bet his life Mianite had kept him warded so no one could track him down, so he would have to rely on paper and a spell. Wag had helped him in making a transport spell not too long ago. He prayed that if he could hit the book it would send it to his waypoint. I quickly scrawled the note, placed it in a chest he'd found in his inventory, and put out the feels. He cast the spell, and the chest disappeared.

Tom was a mess. The search was getting to him and he wasn't sure how much longer he would last. Every hand available had put the search out on their lost friend and had come up empty. It was a huge mess and Tom felt like he was about to keel over. Too tired to cry, too emotional to sleep. It was a poisonous combination that left him feeling dead inside and out.

It was nearly midday when he found it. A chest he didn't remember placing down. Figuring it held a note from Martha or something, he almost didn't check it. Inside contained a single, untitled book. "That's odd," Tom though as he opened it. His heart almost stopped. The page held coordinates and a single word. Help.

Tom immediately unfurled his wings and took to the air, racing towards the coordinates. He had no time to lose, and the location was far. I took him two hours to fly there. He wished he had asked James for some Meth to help him run there super quick, but there had been no time. He had to find Jordan.

The pain was so bad. Jordan had to keep constant pressure on the jagged hole in his side, which meant pressing his snapped wrist to the wound with his unbroken one to quell any bleeding. He was beginning to worry no one would find his note. He wasn't sure where his waypoint had been placed. It could very well been at his reactor, and then no one would probably find it until it was too late. But part of him thought he had made it at Tom's tree or Cherry Ridge Farm 2.0. Wherever it was, he just hoped he would be found soon. It was becoming hard to stay lucid.

Hours passed and he finally heard the sound of wings. "Sparklez?! Jordan?! Where are you?!" a loud British accent called out.

Tom. Oh thank Ianite. "Tom!" He rasped, his voice weak from the pain and the constant strain it had been under the past weeks. "Help me… please!"

Footsteps rushed towards him and soon Tom's blue hair was peering out over the edge at him. "JORDAN!" He shouted and dropped down into the pit with him. Never in his entire life had he been so glad to see the man.

The Dianitee looked a mess. His eyes were bloodshot and hair rumpled. There was so much worry on his face. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hug Jordan, but he was examining Jordan's injuries. He was sure he looked pretty bad.

"What happened?" Tom whispered, shocked.

"Mi… anite…" he choked out through the pain. "t-tortured me." He motioned with his head to the wound his hands were covering. "Help…"

The younger man snapped into action. He removed his jacket and began pulling it into strips. Gently, Tom removed Jordan's hands. This is bad, Tom thought as he examined it. Blood was seeping out steadily, so he quickly wrapped the scraps of jacket around his friend, being careful not to cause him extra pain. He apologized as Jordan winced. I need to get him back to Dagrun, now.

"Can you walk or fly?" Tom asked tentatively.

Jordan shook his head, first motioning to his ankle. It was bent in a weird angle, obviously broken. He then unfurled his wings and spread them for Tom to see. The thin membranes of the dragon's wings were torn and shredded. Tom felt his heart shatter. What had they done to his best friend?

"I'm going to pick you up, ok? We're going back to Dagrun. Ianite will fix you up fine." He could tell the older man was trying not to shout out when Tom lifted him into his arms. "It's going to be ok. You just have to stay awake for me."

Jordan nodded but he was already losing that battle. His eyes were fluttering open and closed. The loss of blood was becoming a huge issue, and he could already see blood already coming through the bandage he made.

"Stay with me, Sparkly-dick."

Tom carried him bridal-style as he flew as fast as his wings could carry them. He heard the quiet whisper of "Thank you…" before Sparklez eyes closed.

Pain. The sound of Tom's voice. Screaming. "Farmer Steve?! Anyone! Help, please!"

Pain. Hurried footsteps. A concerned, yet calm voice- Ianite. "Martha, please come here I need your help with this." Tom's cursing to the left. Muffled sobs to the right. Hands on him.

Pain. Less this time but still there. Throbbing in the head, chest, feet. Two hands enclosed around one of his, squeezing gently. A voice. "Goddamn it, Sparklez. Just wake up. Please."

Quiet. A cool, damp towel dabbing his forehead. A gentle hand caressing his cheek. A small, sad sigh.

Jordan could see light behind his eyelids. He moved to sit up, but was stopped by a blinding pain in his side. Gasping, his eyes shot open, trying to find the source, to find who was hurting him this time.

When his sight was not met with hard, damp stone, he was confused. Instead he saw warm wooden walls and… pink? Jordan scrunched his eyes in confusion. Where the hell was he? Did Mianite's lair get a make over? He doubted it. It looked like… Martha's room? This only served to confuse him further. What the hell was going on?! He contemplated trying to sit up again when he realized someone was holding his hand. He tensed. The only physical contact he'd had in weeks had been pain, anger, and hatred. But this… this felt nice.

Jordan turned his head towards the held hand and saw a mop of bright blue. Tom was asleep, resting his head on the bed by his side. It took a moment for Jordan's brain to catch up. Eventually he began to remember. Sending his coordinates in a book. Tom finding him and patching him up, taking him home. He realized he must actually be in Martha's house. A wave of relief washed over him and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He was back and safe. He slowly closed his hand around Tom's and weakly squeezed it. Last time he had properly seen the man he yelled at him unfairly. And yet Tom had saved his life. It was a debt he could never repay.

Tom began to stir. Sleepy brown eyes blinked at him slowly, then widened. "You're awake!" He sat up and gripped Jordan's hand even tighter. The unbridled happiness and relief that covered the man's face made Jordan's heart flutter and he cracked a smile of his own.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he croaked. "How long was I out?"

"Three days," Tom responded. "I… We were all afraid you weren't going to make it. Martha and Ianite couldn't heal everything because of some spell Mianite had placed on you, but they patched you up really well. I think they were able to fix your wrist and ankle and a few of your ribs. But the stab wound in your side…" He trailed off, wincing at the memory. "You should be alright now. Well, relatively speaking."

He took a good look at his friend. He looked a little better than before, but not by much. "Have you been sleeping?"

Tom shook his head. "I couldn't," he said softly. "I was too worried about you."

Guilt panged in Jordan's gut. "I'm sorry for worrying you all."

Exasperation passed over the other's eyes. "It's not like you asked to be kidnapped and tortured, Jordan. No one is mad, or blames you." Tom gently stroked a hand through the man's hair. He needed him to know it was ok, that he was safe. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again."

"You saved my life…" Jordan began, leaning into the comforting touch. "I owe you everything. Whatever you need, just ask me."

Tom only shook his head. He didn't want anything from the man. He hadn't gone through all that just for a favor. "Seeing you safe is payment enough."

It took Jordan a while to heal completely. During that time, and even after, he was always not far from the other heroes. He could always be found helping one of the others, or assisting Ianite. Jordan was afraid to be alone. When he was, the memories came back and he feared he would be taken again. Being with his friends made him feel safer. The threat of Mianite would moved towards the back of his mind, instead of consuming all his thoughts. Whenever he did venture out on his won, it wasn't for long, and most of that time was spent in the safety of his Specter Dimension. He knew Mianite could get him in there, but at least his lackeys would have a much harder time.

Tom found that, even after fully recovering, Jordan spent a lot of time with him. Not that he minded. Knowing the man was safe kept a weight off of his mind. Tom kept him out of the shell of tormented memories he knew he treated into once alone. He kept his mind from wandering too far with trivial tasks and playful banter. But with each joke cracked and laugh exchanged, Tom felt his crush growing and growing. He craved Jordan's presence and longed for something more. He was just too afraid to act on his feelings though. He didn't want to risk scaring him off.

It got to the point where he was having dreams at night. He would shoot up, panting and bothered, ashamed by his brain. He needed it to stop. One morning, after being unable to go back to sleep from another dream, he was rummaging through a chest when he came across a bottle of cider Sonja had given him a while back. Not enough to get drunk. But hopefully enough to give him a boost of liquid confidence. There were things that needed to be done.

Tom was not surprised, upon exiting his home, to find Jordan searching through his ME System. The cider began doing it's job quickly, and he knew it would not last long. He needed to act now, or else go insane.

"Good morning," Jordan greeted. He looked so tied, Tom noted quickly. The bags under his eyes had not gone away even a little. He never told Tom outright, but nightmares seemed to be a likely cause. No one can out of what he went through unscathed.

He marched up to the man and began without greeting him. "I know how you can pay me back."

Jordan looked taken aback. "Oh? What would that be?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Tom rushed forward and kissed him. It was soft and quick, but it set both their hearts on fire. When Tom broke the the contact and began pulling away, Jordan gripped the front of his shirt and tugged him back.

"if you're going to kiss me, at least do it right."

With that, the Ianitee snaked his arms around the other man's neck and crashed their lips together. Tom was only too happy to oblige. It was everything he had hoped it would be and so much more.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he managed between kisses.

Jordan chuckled. "Tell me about it."

That night, curled up in Tom's arms, Jordan did not have nightmares. Instead he slept peacefully with a small smile on his face.


End file.
